


Merry-Go-Round

by Crescent_Moon_Demon



Series: Kittycons and Autodogs universe [4]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Gen, Growing Up, Kittycon/Autodog verse, Random Snippets, Slice of Life, Sparklings, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7207985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescent_Moon_Demon/pseuds/Crescent_Moon_Demon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a whole new litter at Onslaught's house -five strange, unique lil' sparklings to be exact! Let the fun begin~<br/>(Drabbles regarding the stuntibabies; ratings to vary. Tie-in fic to Ears and Tails & Tooth and Claw)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**C.M.D: Well, the parents' stories have come to a close (except for Blast Off and Cosmos's... How could I forget that?) so it's time to write about the kiddies! Since I have a few drabbles planned for each of the characters, showcasing cute, sad and endearing highlights of their lives growing up, I thought it would be best to start yet another fic. Because I don't want to try and squeeze them all into Tooth and Claw. Ratings to vary, but will probably stick around PG for the most part.  
So, please! Enjoy this new update and I'll see you all next month!**

Behind the shed, hidden by a couple of trees and bushes, and covered by some awning, was a spot that Deadend liked to retreat to. It wasn't always warm, especially in the winter, but compared to the rest of Onslaught's house, it was a safe haven from the noise and idiots. So the hybrid would sneak away while no one was watching, bring along a snack and a book, and settle in for a pleasant enough read until one of his creators came to collect him or Auntie Skydive called all the sparklings in to eat. It was on such an orn that Deadend sat in his secret spot; eager to get along in his newest book, when he heard a sharp whimper render the otherwise silent air.

Before the hybrid had time to assess what was happening, Motormaster's angry roar of "Get back here, Dweeb!" echoed outside, and the whimpering transformed into outright panicked ventilation as the bushes next to the shed began rustling violently. Suddenly, Breakdown stumbled into Deadend's secret spot, falling flat on his face in his hurry to get free of the jabbing branches.

While the frightened sparkling was momentarily immobile, the other hybrid made note of the fact that he'd been dressed (shoved, more like) haphazardly into a dress not quite his size. It appeared that Motormaster had been tormenting poor Breakdown again...

"WHERE'D YA GO, YA STUPID SQUIRT!," Motormaster shouted, the sound of the patio door thunking loudly against the house's siding.

At the yell, the shivering hybrid scrambled upwards, only just taking notice of his cousin sitting but a few pedes away. If it wasn't for Deadend's quick lunge forward, Breakdown's resounding shriek would have given them both away. Thankfully, the quiet sparkling's servo muffled any sound and despite his tearful optics, the other hybrid did not move to free himself. On the other side of the yard, Motormaster could be heard stomping about and swearing before the sounds of his presence vanished entirely.

"...T-thank you," Breakdown sniffed softly as he was released.

Deadend waved a servo in dismissal.

"I-is this yo-your spot?," the white sparkling swallowed anxiously. "I-i'm sorry, I d-didn't know... I-i was... I'll j-just go no-now."

That was surprising. Deadend shuttered his optics, puzzled by Breakdown's behavior. He had not uttered a single word, yet now his cousin believed he was being cast back out into trouble, with Motormaster on a vengeful prowl. How odd.

"...you need not go," Deadend spoke up, just as Breakdown began to push against the bushes experimentally. Shih tzu ears perked in alarm as the other sparkling turned around to face the smaller hybrid; coolant collecting in his optics hopefully.

"R-really?," Breakdown vented desperately. "I-i'm not a bo-bother?"

The quiet hybrid shook his helm. "He's chasing you still. If you leave, you'll have nowhere else to hide."

It was the truth. Onslaught's home did not have many nooks and crannies to hide in, and most of those were occupied by Motormaster or the lynx. Breakdown knew what awaited him if he left this sanctuary and Deadend did not wish to see his nervous cousin bullied by that angry idiot. Breakdown was too sweet for that...

Warbling his thanks, Breakdown quickly plopped back down on the ground, yanking the dress over his helm unceremoniously and wiping his weeping optics. It was such a sad sight and it distracted Deadend from his book. Silently, he thought to remedy the situation, and came to a decision as he patted the open space beside himself.

Again, Breakdown shuttered his optics in disbelief but when the black hybrid did not retract his invite, the other sparkling crawled over hesitantly. "W-what you reading?," Breakdown softly asked after a few kliks.

Deadend, who'd gone back to reading after his cousin had settled down some, paused, looking up at the taller hybrid. Breakdown had the prettiest lilac optics Deadend had ever seen, but he kept them glued to the ground in fright all the time. It was such a shame.

" _Moby Dick_ ," the black hybrid answered simply, realizing he'd stared a few astroseconds too long. "It's old."

The white sparkling gave a short chuckle. "Y-you read a lot of old books. I wish I could read such big words like you."

"...Would you like if I read to you?," Deadend offered quietly.

Surprise a third time from his cousin, yet it was accompanied with a hopeful sparkle in his lilac optics and a shy, little smile now. "R-really?," Breakdown sighed in awe, "I-i'd like th-that. A-alot." The smaller hybrid nodded, opening his book up once more and adjusting it so the other sparkling could follow along if he'd like, before softly beginning to read aloud.

**xxXxXxx**

Wildrider rocketed for the door as soon as he'd heard the first knock. Hardly deterred by the five deadbolts, two padlocks and one electric keypad lining up the frame side to the top, the hybrid made quick work of the obstacles; clinging to one of the deadbolts like an ape as he went. Two more knocks later, he successfully pulled the door open, finding himself greeted by a sharp hook.

"Daddy!," Wildrider crowed loudly, jagged mouth splitting wide in his excitement.

"Heyo kid," Lockdown returned, putting out a cygstick on the door frame. "Where's your carrier?"

"Office," the hybrid answered distractedly, zoning in on the bag the albino had half-tucked away behind himself. "What's that? What's that? Mine? Is it mine? Can I see? Can I touch? Gimme gimme gimme gimme!"

Lockdown arched an optic at the words rapidly shooting from his son's mouth, grunting as excited optics followed the path of the gift bag as he swung it out from hiding. "Yeah, it's yours. Happy birthday, sport," the thug congratulated, tossing the bag for the sparkling to chase so he could step inside the apartment. "Swindle! Swin, get yer aft out here!"

There was a cuss from down the hall before a devon rex poked his helm out from the berthroom, glowering at the taller kittycon. "Who the slag let you in?," Swindle demanded angrily.

Lockdown jabbed a thumb in Wildrider's direction. "The kid did. Seriously Swin, you need better security. What if a burglar tried to break in here while ya were slumbering?"

"Then I'd pity the moron that did," the entrepreneur dismissed dully. "They'd find Wildrider before they did me."

The albino wanted to comment on the callous statement, but he realized that the devon rex was just speaking truthfully -Lockdown even had the scars to prove it. "Yeah, alright, fair point," he huffed, leaning against the wall as the smaller kittycon drew closer. "I got a question for ya, anyway."

"Oh? And what 'eloquent thought' do you have to share with me this orn?," the information broker asked snidefully. The tiger refrained from biting.

"Yeah... Where the frag are the balloons? Streamers? Ya even got a cake stashed away somewhere?," he demanded coolly, staring the grouchy mech down.

"Excuse me?," Swindle returned, optics narrowing. "Cake? Balloons? Why -so I can have a maniac sparkling nipping at my pedes all the night through?"

"Wh- Oh, cut the slag, Swin!," Lockdown growled, taking a moment to get over his sudden stupor, "It's the kid's birthday! Are you seriously pretending that it's not or did you just forget?!"

The devon rex sniffed disdainfully, turning away from the tiger. "I really don't see why that matters to you. So he's another year older -big whoop. Wildrider's never had a party and he's perfectly fine. Besides," the tan mech added, "I have work that needs to be done. Or are you going to pay for the extensive damage bill he procures daily?"

"Y-you... you...," the thug struggled to say. He brandished his hook wildly, so many words of rage trapped in his vocalizer from the sheer volume that spiked immediately within him. And even then, Swindle stood there, glancing over a shoulder casually at the trembling mech.

"Listen, if you're done, I have a client to return to," the devon rex stated flatly. "Honestly, I'm surprised you're throwing a fit when you're the one who refused to have anything to do with Wildrider."

That was low. Lockdown grit his fangs, watching as the entrepreneur began to walk away; swinging his hips a little and overall trying to act like a cute, lil' smart-aft. Well, two could play at that game... "At least I don't act like Wild's _not_ my kid," Lockdown hollered after Swindle. "I mean, I stop by -with a gift!- because it's his birthday and you don't even have a _cake_. Seems like I'm more of the parent here and you're the inattentive warden!"

At the insult, the entrepreneur stopped dead in his tracks, whirling around and opening his mouth in outrage, but Lockdown didn't give the other kittycon a chance to reply. "Hey, kid, let's watch some 'toons," the tiger called calmly to the hybrid making soft noises in the living room.

"Yeah! Toons!," Wildrider cried out happily, jumping across the room and grabbing his sire's hook. "I want to see the exploding coyote!" Smirking smugly, Lockdown threw one last glance at the rigid Swindle, before following the sparkling back to the other room and the comfy couch.

**xxXxXxx**

"Are you excited?," Skydive asked, smoothing down Dragstrip's coat.

The femme nodded curtly at the question, little fingers straightening the bow atop her helm for her carrier. "Yes mama," she answered politely. "I have my knapsack and all my supplies are labelled, and I put my lunch on top so nothing is squished."

"You're such a big femme," the autodog smiled warmly, pecking the sparkling's forehelm. "And you, M... Motormaster?" Skydive shuttered his optics in surprise; instead of turning around expecting to find his son, no one was there and no Motormaster could be seen among the other sparklings in the playground. Looking down at the tug on his fingers, the shih tzu stared quizzingly at his daughter, following her finger as she pointed off in some direction.

"He's over by the window," she informed. And indeed Motormaster was at the side of the school, pushing and banging against a window, possibly trying to get in.

"Oh dear," Skydive sighed, grasping Dragstrip's servo and hurrying them through the throng of other parents and sparklings. "Motor, hunny, don't do that please!"

The black hybrid paused for an astrosecond, glancing over a shoulder at his family, before he turned right back to the window and kept shoving against the glass. The poor mech could only vent softly at his rambunctious sparkling, pausing to pick up the knapsack and things that Motormaster had discarded all over the ground sometime during his excursion over here.

"Motormaster, you can't go inside through the window," Skydive explained calmly, finally approaching the mechling. "The windows stay closed until the bell rings, meaning the school day has begun, and then everyone goes through the door to their new classes."

Motormaster wasn't listening. Smiling wryly, Skydive grabbed the hybrid's swinging fists, gently turning his son around to face him as the autodog knelt to be more level. "You have to be patient for a few more kliks," the blue mech said to the glaring sparkling, "Can you do that for mama?"

Motormaster only narrowed his optics further, sullenly shoving a thumb in his mouth and refusing to respond. Skydive refrained from sighing this time. Despite his and Onslaught's best attempts, they had not been able to get the black hybrid to quit his thumb-sucking and not knowing what encouraged the bad habit, the two mechs were forced to let the issue resolve itself in time. The shih tzu only hoped that his son wouldn't get teased for it on his first orn of school.

Just as he began to fret, the school bell rang out shrilly across the playground; teachers stepping outdoors and calling for certain grades to come to certain doorways. Quickly, Skydive stood, taking both his sparklings' servos and directing them to the kindergarten side.

"Alright, this is it," the mech chirped, bending down and fixing both of the hybrids' clothes one last time. Dragstrip held prim and proper, folding her servos before her dress, while Motormaster squirmed and blew a sloppy raspberry around his thumb. Reluctantly, Skydive gave his hugs and kisses, gently urging the sparklings toward the kindergarten teacher who waved in greeting at the trio.

"Have fun now, okay? Your papa will be by to pick you both up the moment school let's out for the day," Skydive said with a smile as Motormaster and Dragstrip followed after the rest of the crowd of lil' 'bots. "I love you!"

Then they were gone. Skydive vented heavily, feeling a mixture of sorrow and pride all at once. It was a strange situation to be in but the shih tzu chalked it up to nesting anxiety. Waiting a moment longer, the mech bundled up his coat and walked away, hoping his two sparklings would be safe and sound on their first orn of school.

And at the end of it all, the only thing that Skydive ended up really having to worry about was Motormaster getting time-out for most of the orn, for beating up several sparklings teasing him about his thumb-sucking.

**xxXxXxx**

Many things scared Breakdown. Lots and lots of things. Spiders, for one, and other creepy crawlers. Ghosts, monsters and animals terrified him too. Funny shapes in the dark, the creak in the stairs, the moonlight above... Slag, even tulips outside his berthroom window, warm in the light of a beautiful summer's orn, scared the bejeezus out of him!

Of course, nothing compared to the top rankers of his list -his family.

Vortex was without a doubt first place in that category, followed closely by Motormaster. His grandpa Onslaught was a resounding third because of how grumpy and growly he was; Uncle Lockdown was tied for fourth with Uncle Blast Off. It was kind of hard for the pup to decide whether he was more frightened by either the siamese's cold disposition or the tiger's sharp, sharp hook...

Dragstrip and Wildrider were also very scary, and so were Uncle Brawl, Uncle Slingshot, Uncle Swindle...

Breakdown's other aunties and uncles though weren't so bad. Uncle Air Raid gave him lots of sweets, and Uncle Silverbolt made sure he was dressed up all warmly when it was cold outside. Even Auntie Cosmos gave him pretty books, with lots of pictures of cute and happy things. Auntie Skydive liked patting his helm and stroking his ears as well.

By far though, the hybrid's favourite 'bots (and the ones he never felt scared or lonely with) were his mommy and his cousin Deadend. Fireflight always gave him hugs and kisses, and soothed his boo-boos and stayed up with him if the sparkling saw monsters under the bed again. He read to him and played with him, and if things were really bad, the shih tzu would make a little fort that both him and Breakdown could crawl under; snuggled together, singing songs and playing games, safe from the rest of the world and all its scariness. His mommy never would abandon him or hurt him.

Deadend was in many ways similar to Fireflight in that aspect. He didn't read to him or tuck him into bed, or even kiss his scrapes and cuts... But the other hybrid did get him a band-aid if he happened to trip and fall. When Breakdown was scared, he let the anxious sparkling hide in his special, secret spot and he shared with the other his cookies after Motormaster had stolen all of Breakdown's. His hugs, though small, were nice and warm too.

The little hybrid hoped that he would never lose his cousin or his carrier.


	2. Chapter 2

**C.M.D: A bit of a short update period this month. I had hoped I'd get a lot more done, but between unbearable heatwaves, work and catching up on commissions, my muses weren't as proactive in the writing department. In either case, please enjoy the latest chapters anyhow and I'll see you all next month!**

"Didi?"

Lockdown looked up from the beat-up television, where he'd been trying to follow the cyberhorse race through a wash of black and white static, peering around his apartment for his son. With the lack of furniture and possessions, it didn't take long.

"What's up, kiddo?," the tiger asked, leaning back on the ratty loveseat and lighting a cygar. A bad habit to be showing the hybrid, for sure, but the lit butt had a calming effect on Wildrider, and since discovering it, Lockdown had been using it as a tool to reign in the sparkling's rambunctious energy.

"Um...," Wildrider hummed, his optics fixed intently on the burning end of the cygar- like a moth drawn to flame. "I, uh, bwoketh some-ting."

Well, that wasn't good.

"Whatcha break? Huh? Wild? Wildrider!" The thug snapped his fingers impatiently when the scraggly mechling continued to stare at him dazedly, finally breaking Wildrider's trance.

"I bwoke thwis," his son replied, opening his mouth wide.

For an astrosecond, Lockdown didn't know what he was staring at, then with a flick of a tiny glossa, the mech understood. "...you have a loose denta..."

"Yeah," the sparkling exclaimed happily. Then his ears flattened dismally. "I'vas gwinna gwue it bwack hut eww dun ha'any."

Lockdown made a face, trying to puzzle out what Wildrider had told him while fiddling with the loose fang. "Gwue? Oh... 'glue'...," the thug mumbled, scratching an ear. "Yeah, no, you don't glue it back kiddo. They're supposed to fall out after a while."

Wildrider had the decency to look slightly scared. "B-bwuh I wuv shumping stwuff!," the hybrid wailed.

_'No fragging kidding,'_ the tiger thought, rolling his optical sensors. The sparkling's pension for chomping had left their ever-lasting marks on his plating, and had cost Lockdown the majority of his furniture and cupboard doors. Honestly, he was surprised that Wildrider hadn't lost all of his fangs during his bornling years.

"Don't worry 'bout it, kiddo. Yer jus' losing your baby chompers," Lockdown assured, stamping out the smouldering remains of his cygar on the loveseat's arm. "It just means your big fangs are ready to start coming in."

"Bwig?" The sparkling canted his helm curiously, glossa flicking out between his lip components as he continued to play with his loose fang.

"Yeah. Yer big chompers. Like daddy's," the thug answered. He bared his denta tightly to showcase his point. Wildrider perked up immediately, mouth splitting wide with his usual grin as the hybrid began to vibrate with building energy. Unfortunately, the sparkling unwisely clapped his fangs together, aggravating his sensitive dentae.

"Alright, come here," the tiger gestured to the wailing hybrid. Sniffling uncharacteristically, Wildrider padded over to his sire, too slow to respond when Lockdown reached into his mouth suddenly and yanked the loose fang free.

"O-OOWWWIE!"

"And now mother's medicine," Lockdown added, reaching around and pulling a flask out of his jean pocket. He popped the cap, wetting his finger and rubbing it on his son's flared dentae line. Swallowing back the rest of a whimper, Wildrider lapped his glossa into the now empty space, scowling at the taste of high-grade. "Now, now, don't worry. It's just some engex- you'll get accustomed to the taste eventually."

"Soo, now I git bwig fwang?," the hybrid asked hopefully. It was amazing how quickly he got over things like pain and fear.

Shaking his helm, the thug chuckled, yanking his son up on the loveseat beside him. "Not this astrosecond, but shortly, yeah," he replied. "For now, let's just watch some t.v. Your momma is gonna be along in a while to take ya back."

Chirping eagerly, Wildrider snuggled into Lockdown's side, grabbing the tiger's hook and chomping on it idly.

**xxXxXxx**

There were many new things to get accustomed to as a first-time creator: long nights, disjointed sleep patterns, discovering there were different ratios to 'hot' and 'cold', always plagued by a persistent feeling of panic and pride all at once... It was a whirlwind of changes and compromises that Skydive could barely comprehend, let alone marvel that he managed to get over each new hurdle without too much difficulty.

If he had any doubts about being able to handle the life of a carrier, they were certainly forgotten with how smoothly the autodog made the transition.

Rising out of recharge, Skydive groped for his robe, putting one arm through a sleeve as he sleepily got to his pedes. It was pitch black in the room still and if his unfocused optics could have read the time, he would have known it was only in the wee cycles following midnight. But a tiny whimper, down the hall, drew the shih tzu's attention before anything else could, and Skydive quietly made his way to the twins' nursery.

"Mama's here, sweetsp- oh!," the blue mech gasped softly, wiping the last of the sleep from his optics. "Onslaught, I didn't know you were awake."

Skydive fiddled with his glasses as he took in the sight of the serval standing by the cribs, padding over when he saw his bondmate reach in to pick up Dragstrip. "...Motormaster needed a change," was all the mercenary mumbled, turning to the change table with the bornling cradled in his thick arm.

"You could have woken me to help," the autodog chuckled gently, "Or are you planning on hogging all the dirty diapers to yourself?"

"Sorry," Onslaught mumbled, his fingers already working quickly to undo Dragstrip's sleeper. He said nothing more after that.

Immediately, Skydive's fatigue and humor vanished. He took in the kittycon's sagging shoulders and flattened ears of the life-worn mercenary, feeling his spark wither as he replayed his bondmate's last response over in his helm. "Onslaught...?," he cautiously pressed, stepping right up to the serval's elbow, "Is something wrong?"

It was silent for a long time following his question. The shih tzu raised a servo hesitantly, holding it over his bondmate's plating, but after a lengthy pause, he simply let it drop back down to his side. Why wouldn't Onslaught speak to him? Tears pricked at Skydive's optics and he bit his bottom lip component sharply to silence any sound. He knew he was young and their bonding equally such, yet he'd held onto the hope that the serval would hold nothing from him in their new life together. Was this the way it was to be? Onslaught keeping mute while the autodog made mistake after mistake?

"M...maybe I should head back to bed then," Skydive whispered, feeling suddenly very small and unwanted. "If you have everything taken care of. I mean, of course you do... You raised four mechs by yourself. There's no need for me here..."

Turning away, the shih tzu was surprised when he felt a servo grab his shoulder; the fingers gripping almost too tightly. "Wait...," came the low plea. Skydive faced Onslaught so quickly, he swayed in place, catching himself only when Dragstrip was thrust into his arms.

Optics shuttering in alarm, he looked from his bornling to her sire, another question of concern on his glossa as he saw the kittycon drop heavily into the nursery's rocking chair. "I...," Onslaught muttered brokenly, his face hidden behind his knuckles. "I'm sorry. It's nothing to do with you, just..."

Skydive inched closer, his spark sinking low in his chestplates. "It's what, Onslaught? Please... tell me?"

The kittycon vented wearily, hunching further into himself. "You shouldn't be with me...," he mumbled in self-loathing, "I'm no good... Couldn't do anything right... Couldn't give my sons a good life... Going to ruin these new sparklings' lives..."

"No, no, no, no," Skydive immediately cut in, closing the distance between himself and the older mech. He struggled to shift Dragstrip's weight quickly, reaching out a servo for the kittycon's dipped helm. "Onslaught, no, that's not-"

His wrist was caught before it could get any closer. Shaking his helm, the mercenary finally looked up at the autodog, and when he did, Skydive saw how fractured his bondmate's gaze was. "No, you don't understand, Skydive. So young..." Onslaught sighed, the sound deep and wet, before struggling to press on. "She left me. Long ago, when Swindle was just a bornling. Ran off... with someone... I found them home all alone."

The shih tzu didn't need to ask who. In his own processor, he could remember how dense the forest was that orn, the atmosphere misty and heavy from an earlier storm. Being sent forward, both servos holding onto his two younger brothers; Silverbolt, barely a youngling even then, carrying the basket that Fireflight was recharging in. Suddenly realizing that they were all alone, the forest was growing darker and that no one was coming back for them... His spark seized when he recalled that painful time of his life; the feelings carrying over as he thought of Onslaught and his poor sons going through the same betrayal.

"Onslaught, please, listen to me," he begged gently, pushing forward and cupping the kittycon's cheekplate, looking fiercely into the dim optics, "You are _so good_. You... you raised your children, all on your own, and you've given the best that any parent could hope to give. You've loved them, clothed them, sheltered them and gave them all the tools they needed to make a life for themselves! You've done so much good and you shouldn't be scared. I promise you. You've not ruined anything..."

The autodog stroked the mercenary's cheekplate softly, wiping away the one tear that dotted the serval's optic. "She... Whoever your wife was, it was her mistake, choosing to abandon you and your sons like that. But her actions do not make you a bad person, Onslaught. I can see how much you love Motormaster and Dragstrip; how much you'd do to keep them safe and well," Skydive continued, his neck cables beginning to constrict around his words, "You're a good mech and a great sire. Don't you ever forget that!"

Onslaught groaned weakly as the other finished before he pulled the shih tzu to his frame, burying his face into the other mech's neck with a muffled sob. Concerned for his bondmate, Skydive wrapped his free arm around the kittycon's shoulder, hugging him back just as tightly.

"...wish...," came the meek mumble, "...had met you... first... if only..."

"It's alright," the smaller mech soothed, smiling through fresh tears, kissing Onslaught's helm. "You have me now... and I am so happy to be your wife. I love you, Onslaught. There's nowhere I'd rather be than here."

Silence followed Skydive's soft-spoken confession for a long time, until another whimper came from Motormaster's crib. On cue, Dragstrip mewled weakly as well, turning into the autodog, looking for food. Onslaught tightened his hold for a moment more, then let go entirely, rising to his pedes waveringly as the bornlings' whimpers quickly turned to wails.

"I-i, I guess it's feeding time," the shih tzu chuckled, his laughter falling short of its usual mirth. Onslaught nodded, standing in place awkwardly. Skydive immediately grabbed his arm, giving the mercenary his most loving smile. "Join me? Four servos are better than two."

"I...," the serval replied slowly, struggling to smile back, "I'd be glad to."

His servo still resting on Onslaught's forearm, the pair walked to the crib and picked up Motormaster, before leaving the nursery together. "Now, about letting me change some of those diapers...," Skydive could be heard jokingly starting in the darkness of the staircase.

**xxXxXxx**

Deadend disliked classroom activities. More specifically, he hated the obligatory celebrations that the students were forced into every passing holiday. Valentine's Day was by far the worse though. Staring down at the pre-cut blank card the teacher had handed out on every student's desk, the hybrid wondered irritably why he was forced to partake in this inane custom every stellar cycle. Already, his fellow classmates were glancing at the mechling; some jealous, others eager for the maroon sparkling's card to be finished.

Deadend scowled a little under the safety of his hoodie. He really loathed being the centre of anyone's infatuations.

Tapping at the blank card, the hybrid was just starting to wonder if he could get away with tossing the paper out before his teacher noticed, when he heard a timid whimper behind him. "U-um... Dea-deadend?"

The maroon mechling turned in his seat, his visor brightening a tad as he took in Breakdown's unexpected arrival; his poor cousin trembling from helm to pede as he looked about himself fearfully, crumpling something in his servos in his anxiousness. "Yes?," he softly asked, drawing the taller hybrid's attention.

"O-oh!," Breakdown squeaked, trying his hardest to maintain optic contact with Deadend, yet failing. "I-i... I th-thought I w-would... I m-mean, I m-made... I-it's not important," the sparkling finished in a garbled rush, a sniffle almost lost among the words. "S-sorry to bother y-you in your cl-class. I-i'll j-just l-leave..."

"...Wait," the quiet hybrid called softly, as the other mechling turned to walk away. Though it had taken him a moment to figure out why his cousin was risking running across the hall to visit him in his class, Deadend could now see the glitter and ruffles that decorated the card strangling to death in Breakdown's servos.

"H-huh?," the white sparkling flinched, glancing over his shoulder fearfully.

The maroon mechling quickly turned and wrote some things on the blank card, before capping his pen and facing his cousin once more. It wasn't necessarily the prettiest or the most lovingly made, but it was a card of sorts and Breakdown's optics shone brightly when he realized it was for him.

"R-really?," he vented sharply. "For m-me?"

Deadend nodded. "I have no reason to make one for anyone else," he assured.

Breakdown smiled, a shy chuckle escaping as he shakily reached forward; swapping the card in his servos for the one his cousin held out to him. Mumbling a disbelieving thanks, the taller hybrid clutched his plain valentine card to his chestplates and rushed back out of the classroom, for once unmindful of the intense stares the other students were giving him.

Ignoring the spark-broken looks that flashed to the maroon sparkling upon Breakdown's exit, Deadend looked down at the latest Valentine card he had received, his fingers touching lightly upon all the carefully made details. Truthfully, the pink hearts, red glitter and framework of white, paper lace was gaudy, but seeing Breakdown's sloppy handwriting was what made the entire piece. Smiling secretly to himself, the hooded hybrid decided to keep this one.

It was the only Valentine that mattered.

**xxXxXxx**

He'd had a nightmare again. Clutching his blanket, Breakdown wrestled his way past his fear and out of his room, tip-toeing down the hallway to Fireflight's room. He had liked it when he was younger, and he always slept in his carrier's berth -it made getting through the night easy altogether. But he wasn't allowed to do that anymore, others said.

He was a big 'bot now. Almost a mech. He had to stop sharing the same berth with his creator.

Nightmares were the exception though.

This one had been bad too. A demon with red bands across its face had exploded from his closet, jumping into his mouth when he screamed, digging deep beneath his plating and picking and tearing at everything inside; making him writhe and writhe, unable to cry for help or get the terrifying creature out.

Shaking his helm quickly, Breakdown tried to push the fresh memory of the nightmare aside, already feeling trembles rise back up at the mere thought of it. Looking nowhere but at the door ahead, the hybrid finally made it to his carrier's room; grabbing the knob quickly and hesitantly pushing it open a crack.

He couldn't stop the relieved smile that began to grow as he peeked Fireflight's form on the berth across the room... nor could he completely suppress the whimper that rose when he saw who else frequented the berth.

Breakdown didn't know how, and he didn't know when, but the monster had crept into Fireflight's room, sneaking into his berth just like he done in the youngling's nightmare earlier. The sight of the lynx struck him with terror and the hybrid wanted nothing then but to scream and shrink away from the sight of his sire.

Yet, the kittycon wasn't moving. He wasn't waiting, crouched, peering over Fireflight's little frame with his mad, laughing gaze; he wasn't pushing his carrier down and making him scream and cry out sharply like he did other times either. In fact, the grey mech was just... laying there. Silently, almost unnoticeable. Vortex was crushed into the free space between Fireflight and the wall, helm tucked into the crook of his arm and up against the back of the shih tzu's helm, while the other was draped loosely about the autodog's waist. For all intent and purposes, the lynx looked like he was sleeping...

But Breakdown knew that to be false. Monsters didn't recharge; monsters laid in wait, hoping to catch you unaware, when your guard was lowest and they could rip inside you easier... Still, he looked dead asleep, possibly from exhaustion, and Fireflight was trapped within his grasp; smiling serenely in recharge, blissfully oblivious to the danger currently nestled on the berth behind him.

Trying to push back his tears, the hybrid stepped back, shutting the door as quietly as he had opened it. Shaking, he turned and hurried back for his room, barred from finding any relief from his boogies and ghouls tonight.

**C.M.D: Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?**


	3. Breakdown's Choice

**C.M.D:Yeah, so... Sorry I don't have anything else for you guys this update period but this little snippet. I hope you enjoy all the same!**

**Title: Breakdown's Choice**  
**Rating: T**  
 **Warning: mild violence and some language**

He knew it was a mistake before he even realized what he was doing.

Breakdown had just been minding his business, creeping upstairs after letting himself in. He made a point to keep silent, not sure if anyone was home and not entirely willing to find out. The last thing the hybrid needed was to make a scene- especially if said scene was in front of his wonderful carrier, Fireflight. Pausing, the youngling sighed, smiling a little as he thought about the tiny shih tzu.

Through all his stellar cycles thus far, the mech had never known anyone quite as marvelous as his carrier. Breakdown couldn't have been luckier... even if the universe had been cruel enough to stick other, more nightmarish 'bots in his life as well. Thinking about said terrors brought a violent tremble to the youngling and he thought to hurry to his room, to hide and smother his fears before he worried Fireflight with them, when he saw a shadow peel off the wall from his peripheral and reach for the hybrid.

A shriek hissing between suddenly clenched denta, the poor mech did the only thing possible: he swung an arm backwards, forgetting his textbook-laden backpack gripped in a shaking fist until it hit something solid.

Intakes catching in his chestplates, Breakdown hazarded a look behind himself and would have wet himself if his tanks weren't already empty. Straightening up after a stumbling step backwards, Vortex slowly lifted a servo to his slacken jaw, feeling along the sizeable dent trailing from his cheekplate up to the band of red glass. Shock quickly bled from that vibrant visor, a look far more terrifying taking its place, as the hybrid turned and made a foolish escape attempt towards his berthroom. He had barely made it past the threshold before the lynx caught up.

Breakdown yelped as he felt the tell-tale tug of claws snagging the hem of his shirt; the world tumbling as the next astrosecond he was shoved hard against the wall, green fingers wrapped tightly around his neck cables and slowly squeezing. Onlining his optics with difficulty, the hybrid whimpered, trying to fold into himself when he saw a cracked, red visor shoved into his faceplates.

"You _trash_ ," Vortex hissed, his other servo grabbing a flailing wrist and twisting it sharply. Breakdown choked out a cry of pain, vents heaving as coolant rose to his optics, his legs kicking out weakly. Still, the lynx did not let up.

"How _dare_ you hit me?! You think you're funny or something?!," the kittycon snapped, pressing his son further against the wall. The dry wall gave a little groan at the pressure. "Do you realize how long it'll take for a dent to heal?! Too long! Now, Snowflake's going to worry and fret and I will have to tell him something when he inquires about it. What should I tell him, hmm? That his fragging brat is a paranoid spazzoid who lashes out and hurts others because he's simply _afraid_?"

"N-no... p-please!," Breakdown whimpered, struggling to speak through both his terror and the servo clenching tighter around his throat. "D-didn't-"

Vortex snarled, silencing anything further from Breakdown. "I don't _care_ about what you want or your excuses," he hissed, inching closer. His visor glowed bloody red in his rage. "In fact, I don't give a frag about you. I never have. Everything about you makes me _sick_ : from your stupid, little whimpering to your dumb fears and your slagging stupidity. I should have killed you before you became such a slagging thorn in my side!"

"But now..." The lynx trailed off, chuckling lowly in dark amusement, that sinister grin spreading across his face. Breakdown thrashed uselessly. "Now, I'm going to-"

"...V-vortex...?"

The small whisper made both mechs freeze. Turning slightly, Vortex looked over his shoulder plating, feeling his fuel tanks give a strange, little flop as his optics confirmed the small autodog standing in the berthroom doorway. At the kittycon's suddenly lax grip, Breakdown broke free; tripping and stumbling as he ran to Fireflight's side. The shih tzu snapped out of a daze at his son's approach, his wide, confused optics turning to the hybrid.

"B-bedo... y-you..." Fireflight swallowed sharply as he raised his servos towards the youngling, his gaze fixed on the dark marks slowly emerging around his throat. Breakdown flinched at the action, backing away a little; his frightened optics glancing quickly at Vortex still standing where he had left him.

At his look, Fireflight turned forward as well, his optics glazing quickly. "V...vortex... w-why...?," he choked.

Vortex faced him slowly, slipping his servos into his pockets casually. "Now, Snowflake," he started calmly. He paused immediately when the shih tzu flinched at his nickname. Lynx ears perked up in alarm as a trembling servo lifted up to his throat; grabbing the snowflake pendant tightly in one fist.

"I... I don't k-know you..."

"Fireflight, don't be silly," the kittycon quickly cooed, taking a step forward. "You love me. I'm your knight. I do everything for you and give you the nicest gifts. You trust me."

Fireflight stood silently where he was, but Breakdown shuffled out of the room as Vortex came closer. Shuttering his optics tightly, the autodog swallowed back a whimper as much as he could, tightening his grip on the pendant. Vortex froze at the sound, his visor flaring.

"...Fireflight...," he said lowly, a hiss starting to rise in his words, "Don't you dare-"

"I... I-i don't know you at all!," Fireflight gasped, onlining his optics again; tears splashing richly down his cheekplates. The poor thing trembled all over, the entire world shattering in his swimming gaze as he looked up at the other mech. "Y-you're a liar! Everything you e-ever said w-was false! I-i... I can't believe... A-and you hurt B-breakdown, t-then you... L-leave! I d-don't ever want to see you a-again!"

With one vicious yank, the chain on the pendant snapped, unwinding from his throat and dropping to the floor below. Sobbing, Fireflight threw the rest at Vortex before whirling around and shoving past Breakdown. There was the sound of a door slamming, followed by shouting as the hybrid gave chase; pleading desperately to his carrier. Vortex couldn't make out just what he was whining about now.

The entire planet sounded muffled as his gaze fell to the floor, a small shimmer reflecting back from the broken necklace at his pedes.

After a long moment, the lynx turned to leave, a disinterested frown on his face. He changed direction at the last minute, scooping the pendant off of the floor before he clambered out of the window he had used to enter into the house with.

He did not look back or slow his pace as he walked down the road.

**xxXxXxx**

Breakdown woke up on the floor outside his carrier's berthroom door, finding sunlight beaming through the nearby windows and filling the hall with their radiance. Pushing himself up slowly, the youngling rubbed at his numb cheekplate, wiping away a path of drool with the action. For nearly a klik, he was confused as to how he had gotten there, then the memories of last night came rushing back and Breakdown felt his spark wither miserably.

Vortex had hurt him... threatened to kill him... and Fireflight had seen it all.

"M-momma...?," the youngling hesitated, pressing his ear to the door. It was silent on the other side, and for a moment, Breakdown was hopeful... That is, until he heard the tiniest sniffle sound out in the room, causing coolant to collect in the hybrid's own optics.

Fireflight had cried all night. Was still crying. And an experimental pull on the latch showed that the door remained locked. Breakdown could not and was not allowed inside. The shih tzu would not be coming out. He would not wake his son up with kisses and songs, help him pick out his clothes for school; urge him downstairs for a lovingly prepared breakfast and pack his bag before the bus came. None of that would happen today -maybe never again- because Breakdown had made Vortex angry. He'd forced his momma to see the monster for what it really was.

"Mo-momma? Momma, I-i'm sorry," Breakdown whimpered, lightly scratching at the door again. The same as he'd done last night before exhaustion had claimed him. "Momma, p-please... L-let me in. I-i-i... I w-won't do an-anything bad; I j-just want t-to help! Pl-please, do-don't cry... I'm sorry."

Like before, there was no answer. Just the faint sound of weeping.

His lower lip component trembling, the hybrid fell into his knees, his servos trailing off the door in failure. He did not hear the front door opening downstairs through his own sobs until a vocalizer called out in the empty house. "Fireflight? It's me, Silverbolt. Are you upstairs?"

Spark pulsing erratically, Breakdown scrambled to his pedes in a hurry, only managing to trip and fall back to the floor as the older shih tzu climbed the stairs. "Breakdown?," the autodog questioned upon seeing the youngling. "Aren't you supposed to be in sch-"

The hybrid lifted his optics in trepidation, catching the moment when his aunt's expression of confusion transformed to horror. The shih tzu ran to Breakdown's side in an instant, grabbing the flinching mech's arm to keep him from fleeing. "What happened?! Where's Fireflight?," Silverbolt demanded fearfully.

"H-he's...," Breakdown murmured, directing the autodog's frantic attention to the closed berthroom door, "He's i-in there. He locked himself i-in after..."

"After?," Silverbolt pressed as his nephew trailed off. "After what, Breakdown?!"

The youngling appeared as if he didn't want to answer at first, but then he glanced at the berthroom door and fat tears swelled in his optics in response. "After he saw the monster...," he finally whispered in confession.

A trembling gasp escaped Silverbolt. "You mean Vortex." Everyone knew -everyone that is but Fireflight- that Breakdown referred to his unfortunate sire as a monster. Everyone also knew that title was being exceedingly generous to the lynx. "Vortex hurt you... and Fireflight saw."

A minute nod confirmed the autodog's spoken speculations.

Silverbolt cycled a shaky intake for a moment, before he clamped his mouth shut and rose back to his pedes. "Stay here," he ordered distractedly, heading downstairs.

Rubbing the tears free from his optics, Breakdown watched perplexed as his aunt went into the kitchen next; a familiar beep echoing as the older mech obviously grabbed for the house phone. Glancing fretfully between Fireflight's door and the staircase, the youngling eventually settled on sneaking downstairs to find out what was going on, his tucked in tail rubbing awkwardly against his trembling thighs as he went.

He froze, just before the last few steps, when he realized that Silverbolt was talking.

"...some news. It's... Fireflight. He knows," the shih tzu vented heavily, pain in his vocalizer. "Tell Onslaught to get his gun. It's time."

Were they talking about...? Breakdown felt his intakes hitch, a delirious ecstasy spreading through him at the implication that he would not have to be scared any more. But just as quickly as the feeling came, it went, guilt rising and smothering all else as the hybrid realized something. Vision swimming a third time that morning, Breakdown looked back up the staircase, to the edge of his carrier's berthroom door that he could just see past the banister.

All of this was happening, at the cost of Fireflight's happiness...

What had he done?

**C.M.D: Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?**


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